


One Year

by thinkoutsidethebex



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 07:54:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20775128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkoutsidethebex/pseuds/thinkoutsidethebex
Summary: It’s been one year since the love of Peter Parker’s life died





	One Year

**Author's Note:**

> Today is the one year anniversary of my husband’s death. I originally planned for this fic to go a totally different and much more fluffy way, but fate had other plans. As it turns out, this was exactly what I needed today. I didn’t edit anything so it might be riddled with spelling errors so I’m sorry in advance.

A week after you died, Peter finally stopped crying. It was only for a moment, and the tears quickly returned, but he stopped. He had never felt a pain like this before. No broken bone or hit from a superpowered enemy could compare to the pain of losing you. It sucked the air from his lungs and left him in a heap on the floor. May tried her best to help. She knew the pain Peter was feeling. She’d felt it when she lost Ben; the pain that comes with losing the love of your life. She kept telling him time would make it better. Peter didn’t believe her.

One month after you died, Peter watched your favorite movie. He didn’t mean to, but he was channel surfing and there it was. When he saw it, he was frozen. The memory of the first time you’d watched it together flooded back to him

_“Baby, this cannot be your favorite movie,” Peter teased. You crossed your arms and huffed._

_“I’ll have you know that Pirates of the Caribbean is a modern cinematic classic!” you retorted._

_“You just want to stare at Orlando Bloom, don’t you?” Peter asked. Blinking, you tossed your hands up._

_“Wow, I came here to have a good time and honestly I’m feeling so attacked right now.” Peter laughed and scooped you up in his arms, flopping you both back on the couch. You snuggled into his chest, your head tucked under his chin, while he started the movie. By the time the final scene rolled around, you were snoring softly in Peter’s arms. He leaned down and kissed the top of your head, whispering the words along with the movie._

_“I should have told you every day since the moment I met you; I love you.” _ _He thought you were asleep, until you snuggled into him and hugged him tighter._

_“I love you, too.” It was the first time either of you had said it, but it wouldn’t be the last._

Six months after you died, Peter was starting to get used to his new normal. He was back to working as Spider-Man. After you died he wanted to quit altogether, but Tony wouldn’t let him. Tony pointed out how hard you would have kicked his ass if he tried.

“You know damn well if she were here she’d tell you the same thing. You’re a hero, kid. Get out there and make her proud.”

So, he did. He saved people and he stopped bad guys, and each time he did he thought of you. He thought of your smile when he came home after a long patrol and told you about the people he’d helped. He thought of you running your fingers through his hair to soothe him to sleep. He thought of all the times you told him how special he was, and how proud you were of him. It kept him going.

Today, it’s been one year since you died. Peter was standing at the entrance of the cemetery, flowers gripped in his hand. Sweat was covering his brow and his breathing was ragged. He’d visited your grave before, but this was different.

“I can’t do this,” he says out loud to no one. Just then, like someone had been listening, the wind comes up and urges him forward. Peter smirks slightly, because he knows it’s you. He can almost hear your voice in his ear.

“Get a move on, superhero. I’m waiting.”

He walks forward, knowing the exact path to where you rest. He’d helped your parents pick out the headstone, and the quote on it.

_Not all treasure is silver and gold._

He walks up to you, tears already streaming down his face.

“Hey beautiful,” he says. He sets the flowers down, replacing the dried ones he’d left a few weeks before. “Sorry I haven’t visited in a little while. Mr. Stark has had me working on some stuff. Man, if you could see the tech he’s got for me now, you’d flip. He wanted me to come in today but…then I reminded him…” He trails off, a lump forming in his throat. Peter crouches down, his fingers tracing your name on the cold stone.

“It’s not fair,” he croaks. “You should be here. I should be telling you all of this while you’re in my arms not under the ground. We had so many plans and…I just…. I’m so sorry, baby.” He’s sobbing now, on his hands and knees in the grass. He hasn’t cried this hard since the day you died. He’s bottled things up so much that once the dam breaks he can’t stop it. He cries for what feels like hours, until his throat is raw from it. Once the tears stop, he draws in a staggering breath and looks up at your name. For a fleeting moment, hope gives him the delusion that his grief was so profound that whatever deity took you away from him would give you back. But nothing is different. He’s still weeping on your grave. Your name still stares back at him, etched in marble. You’re still gone, and nothing he can do will bring you back.

Gathering all his strength, Peter forces himself to stand. He places a hand on your headstone to steady himself.

“I love you so much. And I promise, I’m gonna make you proud, baby.” With that, he turns to leave. The sun is beginning to set and the winds kicks up again. This time, he’s sure he hears your voice on the breeze.

“You already have.”


End file.
